Michael sighted down the barrel. “What troubles?”
Trent snorted. “Right. ‘Whatever the problem, bullets are the answer.’” He nodded at the gun in Michael’s hand. “It’s clean. Well, not clean. Probably been used in some shootings. But clean to you.”
Michael smiled and reached for the clip. He slapped it in with the heel of his hand, thumbed the safety, and tucked the gun in the waistband under his shirt. He fished into a pocket. Pressed a wad of bills into Trent’s hand.
Michael shot a little-kid grin at me. “I need some time to talk to Trent, Ice.” He tipped his head toward the door. “Enjoy the party.”
Trent watched me go.
I stepped back out into the thudding music and stripteasers.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The sounds of the party pounded in my head. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. Opened them again and didn’t see anyone I knew. Fished the cell out and saw that Clay had texted, What a swell party this is. Knowing Clay, it was probably a quote or something. I could hear him saying it, dry, with just the right kill-me-now inflection.
I snorted.
It felt stupid, standing in front of a closed door with the party going on all around me, so I pushed through the crowd, heading back to the pool where the others were. I looked for Clay. Not that I would be talking to him, but just to see where he was.
I didn’t see him on the way out.
No one else from Michael’s group was there. So I found an empty lounge chair and stretched out. A few kids played around by the pool and some ended up in it. I draped my arm over my eyes and ignored the others. And couldn’t decide if I wanted to see Cyndra or not. I pictured her shiny dress, remembered watching her put it on, and what she wasn’t wearing underneath. The way her head had felt, resting on my shoulder. She’d recognized that I didn’t know how to use chopsticks that time at the mall and had brought me the fork. Sat me in front of the aquarium and held ice on my jaw.
She’d given me money for my “time.” Won the bet.
I pictured her telling the others about it. What would she say? I imagined them laughing, the girls congratulating, Cyndra collecting the money. Maybe Michael would congratulate her, too, before taking his cut.
“All by yourself, huh?” Monique stood over me, holding two plastic cups.
I put my arm back over my eyes. “Yeah.”
“Now, we can’t have that.” The cushion shifted as she sat down next to my legs. “I saw you over here, lonely as a cloud, and so I brought you this.” She knocked the plastic cup against my free hand.
I sat up, taking the cup. Monique looked at me, that same, overly seductive smile hovering on her lips. The fact that she’d searched me out, with a drink, told me something, I just didn’t know what. Either Cyndra had told everyone and it didn’t matter to Monique, or Cyndra hadn’t told yet. And if not, what did that mean?
I drank, two big gulps. Monique smiled and inched closer. She brushed her fingers through her hair and squinted at the kids splashing in the pool. “That’s lame,” she said when two girls started fighting in the shallow end.
We watched for a little while, until some guys pulled them apart and lifted them out of the pool.
“Thanks for this,” I said, holding out the cup.
“You’re not finished.”
“Yeah, I am.” I stood up, thinking I’d go find Cyndra or Michael, or the hell with it, maybe even Clay, and get a ride out of there.
I stumbled against a table, knocked over a few drinks.
Monique was under my arm in an instant. “Easy, Ice. Here, come with me.”
My head felt like an aquarium full of circle-swimming fish. An aquarium with an obnoxious kid knocking on the glass. I was feeling so sick that I didn’t suspect anything until Monique piloted us to an empty bedroom. Then it clicked together.
I braced my arms against the doorway. “The drink.”
Monique giggled. “Oh, don’t be like that. It’s just us. Let’s party.” She yanked at the front of my shirt.
I pulled away and stumbled down the hall. Monique followed, laughing. I found an empty couch and fell on it. Two girls danced and kissed on the coffee table in front of the sofa. A martial arts movie ran silently on the screen hanging on the wall.
Monique sat next to me, pressing into my side and snaking a hand under my shirt. She popped up on her knees and started kissing me, shoving her tongue into my mouth.
I felt like lead. Like the water in the aquarium was getting cold, like the fish weren’t swimming around, even the black-and-white one drifting slowly to the bottom.
“Do you mind? I’m trying to watch two girls kissing. It’s sort of a fantasy, and your roofie rape scene is ruining it.”
“Clay.” His name was hard to say. My head rolled to the side. He stood in the doorway. Despite his words, he didn’t spare a glance for the two girls on the coffee table.
“Who the hell are you?” Monique didn’t shift her weight off my chest.
Clay didn’t answer her. Instead, he slapped my cheeks as Monique slid off me.
“Are you okay, Jason?” His face elongated and tilted. The room spun—starting at my chin and arcing through the top of my skull.
“No,” I mumbled. Closed my eyes again.
“He’s fine. He’s just had a lot to drink.” Mona’s voice receded slightly as she stood.
“Right. Whiskey with a side of GHB.”
I fought to keep my eyes open. The room tunneled closer. Clay stood over me, an improbable protector as Monique walked out. My eyes kept rolling up.
“Ladies, you delight me, but maybe you could take your party outside? Here. On me.” Clay held out something in the palm of his hand.
“Sure, whatever,” one of the girls said. She took a white pill out of Clay’s hand and handed the other to her friend. They swallowed the pills and left.